


wear black on your forgotten red heart

by plutonianshores



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Corsetry, F/M, Pre-Canon, Ritual Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: Gertrude has a magic dildo that needs de-enchanting. Gerry has a hard-on for his boss. Things work out well for both of them.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Gertrude Robinson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	wear black on your forgotten red heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WolffyLuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/gifts).



When Gerry’s boss, who he’d had a rather embarrassing crush on since his first day on the job, told him that they would need to fuck to fulfill an ancient ritual, he thought he was dreaming. He said as much to Gertrude, although he may have made it sound a little less like one of the dreams where you wake up with a hard-on and a little more like the ones where you show up to an exam naked even though you graduated years ago.

"An eighteenth century ritual," she replied, raising an eyebrow, "hardly ancient. And I’m happy to ask another of my employees, or bring in an outside contractor, if you’d prefer."

No, he definitely would _not_ prefer that; Gerry couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t take this chance to make his wet dreams a reality. Although picturing Gertrude trawling through Craigslist for someone willing to show up at a research institute and able to keep their mouth shut was almost work making her go through with it. "I’m up for it if you are."

Gertrude smiled smugly, like she’d known from the start he wouldn’t say no, and handed him a key. "Be here at 2 am. I’ll be waiting in the basement."

  
  


Gerry had meant to show up fashionably late. Instead, he arrived at 1:30 and hung around outside until 1:55, not wanting to look too eager. Gertrude had an inflatable mattress set up on the floor, covered with a sheet on which she’d drawn a series of complicated symbols in magic marker. Next to it was a tarnished brass dildo, similar symbols curving around its base, a pump-top bottle of lube, and a black lacy corset.

"The ritual needs a corset?" It didn’t _look_ as old as the dildo, but Gerry knew fuck-all about historic clothing.

"No, I need a corset. It should be your size."

All right, Gertrude was kinky. She had that buttoned-up attitude that always made Gerry wonder, but he hadn’t dared dream she’d come prepared with lingerie in (presumably) his size. Gerry cleared his throat. "Should we, er, get started, then?"

Gertrude gave him a nod, crossing her arms. "Whenever you’re ready, Gerard."

Gerry nearly turned around to strip, before realizing how pointless that would be when Gertrude would be seeing his prick up close and personal in a few moments. He grabbed the corset when he was undressed, fully prepared to fumble through doing up the laces himself, when Gertrude gestured for him to turn around. She deftly laced it up, and she’d been right, it _was_ his size. If all of the blood hadn’t been rushing to his dick instead of running his brain, Gerry might have wondered how she’d known. In the moment, though, his only thought was to wonder if she’d let him keep it.

He sprawled out on the mattress, trying to look more composed than he felt. "Have at it, darling."

Gertrude snorted, and knelt down next to him.

She knew her way around an arse, Gerry had to give her that. She worked her way inside him with ease, and she’d even trimmed her fingernails for the occasion. It was definitely her experience getting him painfully hard in a matter of moments, not his tragic lack of action and desperation.

He was this close to coming when Gertrude took her hand off his dick and reached for the dildo. "It will be cold," she warned, before beginning a chant in a language Gerry didn’t recognize.

It _was_ cold, at first, but it quickly warmed up, faster than it should have given his experience with metal. And it was vibrating in Gertrude’s hand, making him buck up into every thrust.

" _Fuck_ ," Gerry hissed, hands grabbing for the sheets to keep from grabbing at Gertrude. "Where’d you get this thing?"

"A crypt in Prague," Gertrude said, calm as anything, like robbing a grave in the Czech Republic and coming away with an ancient – excuse him, 18th century – vibrating dildo was just an average day at the office. Then she returned to her chant, grabbing his dick again, and _fuck_ , Gerry couldn’t last. He came hard and fast, and this was going to absolutely _ruin_ the corset.

There was no explosion, no flashing lights, nothing but the dildo going cold and still in his arse. "Wonderful," Gertrude said, gently pulling it out of him. "It should be sated for another few hundred years."

Gerry sat up, deciding to try his luck. "Any chance you’ll let me return the favor? With something other than an enchanted dildo, to be clear."

He wasn’t even sure what to do when she nodded. Luckily, Gertrude was. "I wouldn’t say no to your mouth."

Gerry gave her a little salute, his arms still wobbly from his orgasm. "I won’t disappoint, ma’am."

"We’ll see about that." Gertrude knelt over Gerry’s face, sliding her skirt up, and _oh_ , she wasn’t wearing anything under it. She really _had_ come prepared. Now that Gerry didn’t have the dildo to distract him, he was hyperaware of everything else – Gertrude’s cunt warm and wet against his lips, the lace of the corset scratching at his skin, the mattress dipping under their weight. Gertrude kept silent – Gerry would have expected nothing less. He sucked her clit into his mouth, working harder than he ever had at eating pussy, and her thighs began to shake. She let out a single stifled gasp as she came, grinding down on him, and Gerry was going to take that as a win.

Gertrude stood up, smoothing her skirt down. "You ought to go home. We have an early morning tomorrow."

No rest for the wicked. Gerry propped himself up on his arms. "Can I keep the corset?"

"It’s all yours." Gertrude wrinkled her nose. "I certainly don’t want to clean it."


End file.
